


Disbanded

by longlivefelicitythequeen



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-09 13:02:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10412739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/longlivefelicitythequeen/pseuds/longlivefelicitythequeen
Summary: Felicity feels his pain as if it were her own. Spoilers for 5x17.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This episode killed me. I legit haven't written anything canon-compliant in ages, but Twitter conversations and just this episode in general turned this into one of those things I needed to write down as soon as possible . I'm sick as frick and got a headache while writing this, so I apologize if the quality is lacking. Obviously beware of spoilers for 5x17! Titled after 5x18 though because I'm not creative and Kapushion sounds weird :) 
> 
> On that note, I hope you enjoy this xo

"Oliver? Oh my god," she says, her voice low and tense. Felicity is out of her chair and moving towards him in an instant.

He limps through the elevator doors and all Felicity can do is wish this is another one of her nightmares. She _prays_ this isn't real.

When she closes her eyes at night, she sees the families of Havenrock burning to ashes. She sees her mother, and sometimes even her father, burning with them. She sees Oliver much like he is now, bloodied and broken.

This has to be a nightmare. Felicity knows if this is happening right now, if Oliver endured even more torture, he will break for good. And she won't be able to help him this time.

Digg shifts next to her, Curtis stands, and oh god, this is _real_. Oliver is actually wincing and limping in front of her. She wants to run to him, wants to hold him and take care of him. She still loves him in ways she can not yet express and seeing him this way physically hurts her.

His lips move but she hears nothing as she steps closer, her eyes glued to his bruised and wounded torso. The same one her fingers used to dance across while they lounged in bed, the sunlight peeking through the curtains. She used to trace the outline of his Bratva tattoo, but now the inked star is unrecognizable under freshly burned skin.

Felicity bites back a gasp when a sharp, foreign pain rips through her. Her shoulder throbs, her chest aches, her stomach burns. Every bloodied and bruised mark on Oliver’s body transcends to hers. Her body is marred and mottled with bruises, except it isn’t at all.

She trails her gaze back to his and finally her ears clear and she hears his words.

It’s over. Team Arrow is done. She admits it has been for awhile.

Oliver shuffles forward and collapses in her chair, his body stiff, his eyes closed. She looks at Diggle, silently pleading with him to help her. What do we _do_? What do we _say_?

She doesn't realize Curtis is still in the room, frozen in place as he watches them like an outsider. Diggle walks away then, probably to get medical supplies, and motions for Curtis to follow.

Felicity’s heart pounds in her chest. She is alone with Oliver now, and it makes her nervous. She can deal with him when he is angry, sad, and hurt. But this? This is something else entirely.

Six days. Six days he was tortured. Felicity wants to throw up.

He sits in her chair, tear stains on his cheeks, his eyes blank. The overwhelming need to touch him overtakes her body. His pain is her pain and her comfort is his comfort.

Felicity steps into his space, her hand raising to meet his cheek when a sudden mewling sound from deep within Oliver echoes around the quiet bunker. She snaps her hand back like she touched a flame. Perhaps she has.

“Don't touch me,” he whispers, his unfocused eyes finding hers.

It stings, of course. They may not be together anymore, but they have always been connected in inexplicable ways. Their bond is everlasting and unbreakable, and never has Oliver resisted it like this before.

“He said...he said everyone I touch gets hurt. They all die,” he croaks, tears spilling down his cheeks. “My father died. Shado. Tommy. My mother,” he trips over the last word, and he looks at her with such sorrow that it's hard for Felicity to not see him as a vulnerable child.

It is rather easy to put people on pedestals, to forget they are human beings. It is much harder to realize Oliver was a son, a carefree little boy, before he was anything else.

“Oliver,” she speaks, her voice sounds deep and rough to her own ears, emotion clogging her throat.

“You need to leave,” Oliver demands, his voice holding a resolve it hadn’t before. “You and Diggle and the team. You need to get out of Star City and stay away from me.”

Felicity shakes her head and kneels next to him. She doesn't dare touch him. She refuses to make that mistake twice.

“We aren't going anywhere,” she says softly, trying be firm and gentle at the same time.

His face falls and he shakes his head back and forth. “No, no, no. You have to leave. _Please_ leave me alone. I have to be alone. Please,” he cries, his hands moving up to pull on his hair.

“You can't die,” he whimpers.

Felicity swallows and tears slide down her cheeks. She doesn't know what he needs from her. She will _not_ tell him she will leave. Lies get them nowhere.

She feels helpless until his breaths shorten and he curls into himself. This she can handle.

“Oliver, take a deep breath for me,” Felicity soothes. “Remember what we used to do when you had panic attacks?”

He nods, his face crumpling.

“Good, that’s good. Let's do that again, okay? Can you do that?”

She sees the hesitation flash in his eyes but then he nods again and leans forward in the chair. His right hand presses against her chest above her heart, his left moving to feel her thumping pulse against her neck. Felicity holds in her gasp of relief as his warmth seeps into her skin.

She keeps her hands resting on her knees, his hands on her their only physical contact.

“It's okay, Oliver,” she whispers. “Close your eyes and focus on the rhythm. I'm right here.”

He does as she asks, his brows furrowing as he tunes everything out and hones in on her heartbeat. They discovered early on that feeling Felicity alive under his hands is the quickest way to end his panic and recenter him. It still works, even after all this time. 

They stay in that position for a few more moments until Oliver’s breaths slow and his hands fall from her. Her mouth opens to speak but his hands grasp her arms, pulling her up and into him.

She gasps as she struggles to find her footing. When her heels hit the floor, she wraps her arms around him to steady herself. He clings to her tighter, his face pressed against her stomach. Deep red blood stains Felicity's dress but she ignores it and pulls him even closer. 

Her fingers comb through his hair, much longer than he usually keeps it and slightly knotted from what he has been through.

He shakes then, his cries turning into loud, unbidden sobs. She holds him tighter and sobs along with him, her body giving up its fight to reign in her emotion. She feels his internal sorrow as much as she feels his external wounds.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he chants, over and over and over again.

She wishes she could say he doesn't need to apologize, but the truth is he does. He has so much to be sorry for, but for some reason it all seems so insignificant now.

But Felicity knows it _is_ significant. The way he has acted lately is inexcusable, but what can she say to this broken man except that it’s okay, he is forgiven? What can she say that can just bring them back to their home in Ivy Town, where they were happy and content and whole?

Nothing. Nothing can be said that could change what happened. Now is not the time for apologies or forgiveness, so Felicity just curves her body over his, protecting him from the outside world. 

Tonight, Felicity will stay with Oliver. She will offer him comfort. She will not listen when he begs her to leave again. She will silently cry as she watches Diggle tend to his wounds. She will leave to get some air when Oliver brokenly recounts what Adrian did to him. She will shake as she throws her bloody dress in the trash. She will sleep on the cold floor next to his bed in the bunker. She will have another nightmare. 

Adrian better run and hide, because come tomorrow? Felicity Smoak is coming for him.

And she will not be merciful.


End file.
